Reconnecting
by Saturn Girl
Summary: Faith writes a letter to a member of the Scooby Gang


Title: Reconnecting 1/1  
Author: Saturn Girl  
Email: saturngirl9@hotmail.com  
  
Spoilers: Fifth season, through "The Gift"  
Pairing: F/X  
Rating: R for language (Who knew Faith had such a dirty mouth?)  
Summary: Faith writes to a member of the Scooby Gang.  
  
Disclaimer: The characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel don't belong to me. I'm just borrowing them for a few minutes, that's all. Feedback is welcome, but keep in mind I'm a very novice fan-fic writer.  
  
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Dear Xander,  
  
I wouldn't blame you one bit if you crumpled up this letter and tossed it in the trash. You have every reason in the world to totally hate my guts. But before you go crumpling, at least have the satisfaction of knowing that I was scared shitless to write this thing.  
  
Yeah, me scared. The bad ass Slayer bitch with a 'tude scared to write a stupid letter. I hate writing. My spelling always sucks and I never know how to put things into words right. But that's not what really scared me.  
  
What scared me was knowing that if I write you a letter, I have to face up to the horrible things I did to you. I have to remember, and feel all guilty and shit, and I hate that. By remembering you, I remember myself, and I don't really like my memories of me. It's like when I remember those days, I want to jump up real quick and change the channel to someone else's memories. Cause my memories are scarier than lots of those crappy horror movies they play on The Movie Channel.  
  
I guess I'm writing you, here from my pathetic maximum-security cell, to apologize. Nothing I could say is enough, but at least you can know that as I've sat here in this rat hole, I've had plenty of time to think about all the things I miss, all the things I wish I hadn't done, and all the things I wish I had.  
  
I wish I had listened to you. You know, on that night when you tried to talk sense to me, but I wasn't having any of it? That night where instead of letting you be Decent Guy, I had to be Psycho Slut and try to kill one of the only people in the world that had the guts to tell me to face reality?  
  
I have nightmares about that night, except the positions are reversed. You're choking me, telling me that I mean nothing, that I'm worth nothing, that you'll forget all about me after I'm dead. Because that's how I felt - like if I were to drop off the face of the world tomorrow, no one would care. Except maybe the Weenie Council, cause then they'd get themselves a new Slayer.  
  
Not like Buffy. Everyone will miss her. Angel called me with the news about B. There was no way on earth I'd be let out to go to the funeral, but even if it was possible, I don't think I could have gone. Then I'd have to face all you guys - the good guys, the Scooby Gang, the people I betrayed and spit on and have no business being with. B was always the good one, and yeah, I was jealous. She had all of you guys to love her. I never had a Scooby Gang. I just have me. Pity party, party of one.  
  
  
But despite all the things B did to royally piss me off (like put me in a fucking coma) deep down I always wished our positions were reversed. It was like a wet dream when Wilkins sent me that thing-a-ma-jig that let me switch bodies with Buffy. For a short time, I felt what it was like for people to respect and care about me. It really got me thinking. I'd spent so long convincing others that I didn't give a shit about anything, I'd almost convinced myself I really didn't. But I do.  
  
I wish I could go back and do things differently. Like that night we had sex. Wanna know why I came on to you? Cause I was so sick of everyone loving Buffy. It was always all about Buffy. You still had a major thing for her; don't even try to deny it. I wanted you because I was jealous, and I thought it would piss B off when she found out I'd popped your cherry.  
  
But afterwards, you looked at me. It scared the hell out me when I saw myself reflected in your eyes. You looked at me like I was beautiful. You were so...gentle. I'm not used to that. I mean, you didn't ask me to snag you a beer, or make me sleep in the wet spot. That completely wigged me out. You were just supposed to be a quick romp, a notch in my belt, something to bait Buffy with to cause a little trouble. You weren't supposed to look at me with puppy dog eyes filled with hope that it was something more than what it was.  
  
I was so stupid. I'd longed for someone to look at me like I was special, special like Buffy, but when it actually happened, I panicked and threw you the hell out of my apartment. Some brave Slayer I am, huh? I can kick major demon ass without flinching, but when faced with the possibility of developing a real emotional connection with someone, I was shaking in my go-go boots.  
  
I should have let you stay the whole night. Maybe I wouldn't have spun off the deep end if I'd let down my guard and opened my heart to you. I'll never know now. Like everything else I touch, I screwed up. Now you've got that weird little demon chick to warm up your bed at night. Hope that works out for ya. Don't piss her off.  
  
I guess I'm not very good at apologizing. I haven't even gotten to the "I'm sorry" portion. Here goes - Xander, I am sorry. I'm sorry I treated you like you meant nothing, because in truth, you do mean something to me.  
  
I know what you did while I was in a coma. It took awhile, but I figured it out. After I turned myself in to the cops (which I should have done a long time ago, if I had listened to you) I was assigned a defense attorney. Her name was Carmella. She reminded me a little of Joyce, cause she immediately acted all mom-ish around me. She was great - she helped me get a reduced sentence. Don't worry, I won't be visiting Sunnydale for at least another five years assuming I behave myself.  
  
When Carmella visited me, she gave me some of my personal stuff. She included something I didn't recognize. It was a book. I knew it wasn't mine. The last book I read was the phone book, and that was 'cause I needed to look up the number of the pizza delivery place. It was "On The Road," by Jack Kerouac.  
  
I asked Carmella where she got it, and she said it was in a box of my personal effects that she had delivered from the Sunnydale Hospital. I opened the book, and written in the upper right hand corner of the first page were the initials "X.H." How many people in the world have a name that starts with an X??? Brilliant detective that I am, I knew immediately that the book was yours, but I had no idea how it got in with my stuff. I asked Carmella to call the hospital and ask if they knew anything.  
  
The charge nurse on the ward I stayed on remembered you. She told Carmella that a dark-haired young man would visit me in the hospital and read to me. She remembered you because you were the only visitor I ever got after the Mayor died.  
  
For a long time, I was completely thrown. I tried to tell myself that you visited me to lord over the fact that the tables were turned, that I was the helpless one, that you were laughing at me because Buffy had kicked my ass. But I knew that wasn't really your style. Short-sheeting my hospital bed, maybe.  
  
Why did you visit me? How could you do that, after how I treated you? Damn, you Scoobies are so good and pure you should be on that fucking Seventh Heaven show. The only reason you should have visited my hospital room was to pull the life support plugs.  
  
But bizarre as it sounds, I found comfort knowing that you were there looking over me. Knowing that you took the time to visit me when I was practically dead gave me renewed hope. Hope that maybe someone would actually give a shit if I died tomorrow. I could say Angel would care if I died, but considering how much you dislike the guy maybe I should just keep my mouth shut - hmm, too late.  
  
So I guess this letter is both an apology, and a thank you. You didn't have to care about me, but the fact that you did means more to me than I'm smart enough to express.  
  
Years from now, if you ever see me on the street, I hope you don't look at me with fear in your eyes. God knows I deserve to have you turn your back on me. I'm guilty of many things, and I have many months ahead of me to try to atone for them. I hope when the time comes you allow me the chance to apologize in person, and to thank you for the few kindnesses you extended me.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Faith  
  
P.S. I confess, it was more than seven minutes. Not bad for a rookie.   
  
*****  
  
Author's note: Please read the sequel to this story, "Reconnecting 2 - A Letter From Xander." What's it about?  
  
Duh. :)  



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